


White Collar Drabble Meme Fills - March 2020

by angel



Series: Drabble/Ficlet Meme Fills [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Cooking Show, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guitar, Hurt/Comfort, Music, Post-Finale, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: Drabble meme fills for prompts left on my Dreamwidth and Tumblr accounts.Part 1: Neal, photo (past Neal/Kate)Part 2: Mozzie, puppy (post-finale, includes Neal Burke)Part 3: Neal Caffrey, car crashPart 4: Peter, woods (future fic with Neal Burke)Part 5: Neal, peanut butter (AU, Neal/Sara)Part 6: Neal, song (Neal with a guitar, 'nuff said)
Series: Drabble/Ficlet Meme Fills [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/140451
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Neal, photo for kanarek 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal remembers Kate on the anniversary of her death.

Neal was having a hard day. It was the anniversary of Kate’s death, and Peter had given him a particularly difficult embezzlement case to solve. It was probably Peter’s way of trying to take his mind off of Kate, and Neal appreciated the thought, but it wasn’t working.

He needed a few minutes alone, so he slipped away from his desk and headed up to the roof. It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d sat up here with Sara and discussed her ‘death’, but it had only been a long couple of years. He couldn’t think about her right now. 

He kept the roof door open with a well-placed credit card from his wallet and then moved to look out at the city. New York. His favorite city in the world. This is where he’d met her, and this is where she’d died. He couldn’t help but feel that was his fault.

Neal sighed and looked down at the wallet he still held in his hand. Tucked in a nearly hidden slot, he kept a photo of her. He pulled it out now and studied it. Kate was looking toward the camera he’d been holding. She wasn’t wearing anything but one of his button-ups, and she was laughing at something he’d said. It was the best of times, when they were young and in love and nothing could come between them.

He’d give anything to go back to that day one more time. To see her one more time.


	2. Mozzie, puppy for sheeniani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (post-finale) Mozzie asks to leave his puppy, Ginsberg, with the Burkes while he goes in search of Neal.

“Now, Ginsberg, there will be rules at the Suit’s house.”

The Goldador puppy woofed in response, and Mozzie shrugged. “I know, I know. It’s barbaric, but I have to leave town for a while, and you can’t come with me.”

Ginsberg growled.

“I’m sorry.” Mozzie climbed the steps to the Burke’s front door and looked down. “Sit.” 

Ginsberg dropped down on his butt and looked pleased with himself.

Mozzie fed him a treat before ringing the Burke’s doorbell.

Elizabeth answered the door with a smile. “Mozzie! Do we have a lunch date?”

“Ah, no, but I need a favor.” He held up the colorful leash so that she could see it. “I have to go out of town, and I was hoping you could watch Ginsberg for me.”

One of her perfectly manicured eyebrows rose. “You can both come inside, but you’re explaining this to Peter.” She stepped to the side and then followed him back into the house. “Neal, come down and say hi to Mozzie,” she called up the stairs.

The familiar name still sent a pang of grief through his whole body, even though he stopped by to see the Burkes fairly often.

Mozzie took a seat on the couch just as the four-year-old Neal bounded down the steps, shouting, “Mr. Moz!”

Ginsberg’s tail started wagging faster, and he barked playfully at Neal. 

“A dog! Mom, look, Mr. Moz brought a puppy!”

“Yes,” Elizabeth confirmed, “but it’s his puppy.” 

Neal was unaffected by that news. “What’s his name?”

“Ginsberg.” Mozzie handed the leash to Neal. “Why do you take him out into the backyard to play?”

“Okay!” 

Elizabeth watched them go before sitting down next to Mozzie. “What’s going on, Moz?”

“One of my contacts in South America called with a possible sighting. I want to go and check it out before the trail goes cold.” Over the last couple of years, Mozzie had been getting calls from people all around the world saying they’d spotted Neal, that the man they saw looked far too much like Caffery to be a doppelganger and far too corporeal to be a ghost. He didn’t believe them at first, and then when he did start following up, he always too late to catch sight of the man himself. 

Elizabeth smiled softly and pulled him into a hug. “I hope you have safe travels. Let us know when you’re back in town so you can take Ginsberg back, and I’ll tell Peter what’s going on.”

“Thank you, as always, Elizabeth.”


	3. Neal Caffrey, car crash for nywcgirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his way to an undercover op, Neal loses control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a great prompt and kind of took on a life of its own  I feel the need to put a disclaimer here that I researched nothing except finding a cool car, so most of the medical stuff is hogwash. The car is cool though!

One of the nicest things about living in New York was the transit system, but sometimes Neal liked to get behind the wheel of a car and drive fast. It wasn’t long after his sentence was completed and his anklet was removed for the last time that found himself behind the wheel of an Aston Martin Vantage.

Unfortunately, it was for official FBI business as Neal was working as an official consultant, so Peter was in his ear lecturing him about the hazards of driving too fast. 

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” Neal broke in when Peter took a breath, “have you ever driven one these?”

“No.”

“You really should one day. It’s exhilarating.” Neal sped through the curves on a Catskills mountain road. He was on his way to a remote party hosted by a man they were trying to catch in a serious investment fraud case. 

“Neal,” Peter’s disapproving tone came through the earpiece, and Neal couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled the earpiece out and slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

He was getting more and more comfortable with the car’s handling, and the roads had been nearly empty so far, so he pressed the accelerator down and went speeding around the next curve.

Out of nowhere, a large dark blur darted into the road and froze in the middle of the pavement. A deer. Neal attempted to swerve around the deer, but he was going too fast to allow for such a maneuver. The car’s tires dropped off the pavement, which sent it into a series of flips. When it came to a stop against a tree a few feet off the road, Neal was unconscious.

He was vaguely aware of disjointed images over an undetermined amount of time. Trees. Peter saying his name, looking worried. Medics talking in words he didn’t understand. The sound of a helicopter. Bright lights and people in scrubs and loud voices. Pain in his head and chest and legs. Murmuring voices. Beeping and hissing.

The room was dimly lit and quiet when Neal opened his eyes and looked around. He didn’t remember how he got there or know where he was. It was obviously a hospital room; he’d know the uncomfortable mattress and the feel of IV tubing anywhere. The details were eluding him though.

While he was still getting his bearings, the door opened and Peter stepped inside. Neal was relieved to see a familiar face. “Peter,” he tried to say, but his throat was dry, and what came out sounded like a strangled cat. 

Peter nearly dropped his coffee cup. “Neal?” He hurried over and set his coffee aside in favor of pouring water into a small cup with a straw. “Here’s a little water. The nurse said I could give it to you when you woke up.”

Neal sipped at it, letting it soothe his throat. “Peter? Where are we?”

“What do you remember?” 

Neal closed his eyes for a moment and then frowned. “I was in a car. Driving. You were telling me to slow down.”

“Yeah, well, that was right before you crashed said car in true Neal Caffrey fashion.”

“What?”

“The car was destroyed, Neal. You’re damn lucky we were as close as we were and got emergency services out there as quickly as we did.”

Neal tried to look down at his body to see if he had any injuries but found that he couldn’t really move his head. He panicked. “Peter? What’s wrong with me? What’s this? What’s going on?”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Peter gently pressed a hand to his chest, and Neal was relieved that he could feel it, but it did little to calm his racing heart. “Neal, take a deep breath.”

He tried, but it was hard. Before he had a chance to concentrate, the door flew open and a nurse rushed inside. She asked Peter what had happened while she checked the monitors and took Neal’s vitals. She injected something into his IV and spoke quietly to him until the meds took effect, and he calmed. 

“Mr. Caffrey, you’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be okay. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” he replied.

“Good. I gave you something to relax you, and you’ll probably fall asleep soon. If you need anything, I’m putting the call button in your hand, okay?”

“Okay.” He felt her press the small remote into his left hand and then followed her with his eyes as she left the room. 

“Hey,” Peter said, drawing his attention back to the other side of the bed. “You have a neck brace on that’s limiting your movement. It’s a bad case of whiplash, so that will be on for a while. You also hit your head pretty badly, and you’ve been unconscious for a while.”

“How long?” Neal interrupted.

Peter hesitated and looked away. “Almost two weeks.”

“What?” Neal was sure he’d heard incorrectly.

“Eleven days. You’ve been in and out for the last couple of days, but the doctors didn’t think you’d remember it.” Peter gave him a minute or so to digest that before continuing. “Your legs were both broken, and you had surgery to put in some pins and plates. I’ll let the doctors tell you more about that. You’ll walk again, but there will be a lot of physical therapy. You also broke some ribs in the crash. All in all, you were damn lucky.”

The meds were quickly pulling him back under, but he reached out his right hand to Peter, who clasped it tightly. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Peter said, just as he was about to fall asleep, “but I really hope this means you’ll listen to me next time.”


	4. Peter, woods for cookiegirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Neal Burke go camping... and get into a little bit of trouble.

Peter added more wood to the fire he’d just built and then sat back to admire his handiwork. He still had it, after all these years. This weekend, he was camping with Neal, who’d just turned 9 and was obsessed with being a Cub Scout and earning as many merit badges as possible. Peter was happy to help. 

“Dad!” Neal called from somewhere out in the woods. “Is poison ivy the one with three leaves?”

“Yes,” Peter responded warily. “Why?”

“No reason!”

“Neal?!”


	5. Neal, peanut butter for pooh_collector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal has his own online cooking show and introduces Sara to his viewers.

“Good afternoon, viewers,” Neal smiled at the webcam set up on the other side of his kitchen counter. “Today, we’re going to make peanut butter cookies. This is one of my favorite recipes because I used to make them with my mom on snow days as a kid.

“This is a very simple recipe. You’ll need sugar, an egg, and,” he held up an unlabeled jar of peanut butter. “Creamy style works best with this recipe. I know, I know, crunchy is the best, but I hope you have some creamy on hand too.”

He reached out to grab the last ingredient and knocked it off the counter. “Whoops! One second,” he leaned down and picked up the bag. “This is a critical part of the peanut butter cookie,” he chuckled and held up a bag of Hershey’s kisses. “Technically, these will be peanut butter kisses.”

Off-screen, a door opened and closed. “Neal, are you home?”

Neal’s eyes darted over to the hallway that led to the front door where his wife had just come home early from work. He decided to roll with it. He could always edit the video or even start over later. “In the kitchen.”

Sara walked through the doorway and gasped. “Are you filming today? I’m so sorry. I closed the Wilkinson case and didn’t want to go back into the office.”

“It’s okay.” He beckoned her over. “Everyone, this is my wife, Sara. Sara, meet everyone.”

“Uh, hi,” she blushed and waved at the camera awkwardly. 

“Do you want to help? I’m making peanut butter kisses.”

“I can’t say no to kisses,” she said before pulling him into a kiss. 

Neal returned the kiss and then laughed. “This is a PG-13 cooking tutorial, Mrs. Caffrey.”

“Well, now you tell me.” She laughed too and put on the apron he handed her. 

For the next half hour, they baked cookies and playfully discussed their days and remembered some of their favorite dates. Hopefully, it would be fun for the viewers. He’d talked about Sara before, but she was very busy as an insurance investigator, so she hadn’t made an appearance on his online cooking show, Cooking with Caffrey.

He posted the video the next day, and they sat together on the bed that night and read the comments. Sara was a hit with his viewers, and they started discussing what they could cook together next.


	6. Neal, song for vana-tallinn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mozzie interrupts Neal playing his guitar and thinking about the past.

Neal picked up his guitar, an excellent find at the thrift store near June’s house, and started to strum an aimless melody. It had been a long time since he played, but there was something about the acoustic guitar that called to him, and he couldn’t resist it. Plus, it was kind of like riding a bike. 

When he’d been a teenager, music had been a great escape from his life. He and his mother were fighting a lot, and Ellen spent a lot of time avoiding his questions about his dad and what had happened to him. One of the things he missed most when he ran away from home was his guitar. 

Across the room, the door opened and Mozzie walked inside. “Oh, good, you’re still awake.”

Neal didn’t stop strumming as he looked up. “What would you have done if I wasn’t?”

“Borrowed a bottle of red, of course.” Mozzie pulled a bottle from Neal’s wine collection and poured himself a glass. “What are you doing with that?”

“Recapturing my youth.” Neal began strumming the opening chords of Smells Like Teen Spirit. 

Mozzie swirled the wine in his glass and watched Neal for a moment. “Nirvana. I never would have guessed,” he said dryly. “What brings about this foray back into the grunge era?”

“Just feeling a little… trapped, I guess.” He tapped the foot where his anklet was clearly visible below the hem of his pajama pants.

“There are ways around that,” Mozzie reminded him. “Wine?”

Neal shook his head as he strummed a little more. “What’s the adage? And this too shall pass?”

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

“The only way out is through.”

“Put blinders on and plow right ahead.”

Neal sighed as he finally put the guitar down. “We could do this all night, but I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Okay, if you’re admitting defeat, then I’ll take my wine and go.” Mozzie grabbed a full bottle and headed for the door. “Buonasera.”


End file.
